


Frayed Ribbon

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Kink Meme, Pain, Psychic Violence, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written kink meme request: "Erik and/or Charles forcing themselves on Emma and having their way with her," referring to the bedroom scene in the movie. Story also used for a line bingo, for the square 'bondage (wrist/ankle)'.</p><p>Please note the warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frayed Ribbon

The telepath seemed completely obvious to the stink of emotions raising from the other man. Emma remembered that Shaw had called the man Erik. Emma knew that smell he had, she knew it very well. It was the sickly sweet aroma of cruelty mixed with sharp tang of arousal. It was overwhelming mixture of emotions, and yet, this other telepath didn't seem to react to it at all. Either he didn't understand what the stench meant, or he did, and was ignoring it for his own reasons.  
Either way, it meant that Emma had no moves left.

The telepath kept digging for more details about Shaw, and Emma let him do it. There was no advantage in hiding the information. Even a hint of trouble would only entice Erik further. When the telepath was satisfied, he spun an intricate block around her mind to keep her abilities contained. He kept apologizing, like he had never done the block before. It was pure bullshit, because the block was effective. The telepathic part of her mind was suddenly compelled to solve complicated math problem using colors instead of numbers. It was detailed work, not something you whip up in the spur of the moment. Unfortunately the block did nothing against the emotions that kept wafting from Erik. The smell got sweeter and more overpowering by the minute.

When the telepath was happy with the block, he straightened up and smiled at Erik.

“That should hold until we are back in the States. I'll go get Moira. She might want to take a look at the place.”

Emma stored the name in the back of her mind. Afterward, if she would still be alive, she might be able to use it.

“You should go through the house, make sure that the guards won't remember anything about this. I'll guard her,” Erik said, standing up from the sofa. Emma stared at the telepath, this Charles, and clawed frantically at the block. It was her last chance to make him listen to her, to change his mind. He couldn't just leave her here with him, not when it was so clear what he wanted to do.

“I think you are right. Good thing I brushed up my Russian on the plane,” Charles said and clapped Erik's shoulder on the way to the door. Erik watched him go, and when the door clicked shut, his eyes turned back to Emma. He smiled at her, and Emma started to burrow deeper into her own mind. It was time to cut her losses.

Erik walked over and slapped her few times, a casual show of dominance. The hits stung, but that was all. Emma stared up at him. The block stopped her from reading his mind. At this moment, she was deeply grateful about that.

“You are a smart woman, I'm sure you have weighted out all your options by now,” Erik said and waved his hand through the air in a swooping motion. The bed frame rose obediently to his beckoning, and Emma dragged up along with it. The metal pipes snaked around her once again, one resting against her chest, another around her throat. Lower part of her body was free, but her feet didn't touch the floor. She hung there, like a wet sheet on the clothes line.

“I've wanted to do this ever since we met on the boat. So clever, smashing those memories to pieces inside my head. That hurt like hell. I think is time to return the favor,” Erik said and opened his belt, slowly, making sure she was watching him do it. He grabbed her and lifted her ass up, the metal frame groaning under the shift of weight. She kicked her legs instinctively and the metal around her chest tightened so fast and hard that she heard her ribs creak.

“If you fight back, these little pieces of metal will crush you like a rotten fruit. You can take my word for it, I'm going to have my fun, and I don't care if you are dead or alive. You choose.”

Emma relaxed in his hold. Erik laughed, the metal loosening a fraction of an inch. “Take a breath while you can sugar, I can't promise you will have another any time soon,” he said and held her panties aside, pushing his cock in. He wasn't the biggest Emma had ever taken, but she wasn't ready for it, so it hurt much more than she had anticipated. Inside her mind she cut connections as fast as she could, floating further and further into the silent whiteness of herself, her conscious mind a balloon at the end of a long red ribbon.

He was pushing deeper and deeper, the metal around her throat tightening in unison, adding a new layer of pain. Her lungs burned for air. He didn't rush it, he was taking his time. When he bottomed, the metal loosened around her throat and she drew a greedy breath, then another, and another. The metal tightened again without warning. Emma tried to roll her eyes to look at him, but it was hard to control the movement.

“Still there, sugar? Are you feeling dizzy yet? Choking is hard for the brain. Trust me, I know. Almost drowned in the ocean because of you. Hard to say how many brain cells you are going to loose in this game,” he said, and searched for a good rhythm between shallow and deep, fast and slow.

Every push made the metal tighten and loosen around her, a constant wave of pressure around her. Wrists, elbows, shoulders, throat, chest. Tight. Loose. Tight. Time fell away from her, the same moment stretching on without an end. There was nothing but the search of air, his cock inside her, the push and release of the metal. Somewhere in her mind she was screaming, the balloon dancing at the end of the red ribbon.

It went on forever. Until the metal stopped moving and Erik picked up a faster rhythm, slamming her hard against the metal bars. The sound clanked in her head, shadowed with pain. He grunted, and with a stream of words she didn't understand, it was over. Erik pulled away from her and her legs slumped down without support. The pain was everywhere. Her throat was full of shards, broken ribs on both sides of her chest, muscles twisted from the strain of hanging, mouth full of blood for biting her tongue. She disconnected the pain from her consciousness, but it just kept on coming, clawing through every barrier.

Erik was still in the room, moving at the edge of her vision. The stench of his emotion was almost evaporated, she could hardly sense anything about him anymore. She closed her eyes in relief.

“Charles! Excellent timing. Would you like some?”

Emma opened her eyes. The telepath was in the room, looking at Erik, then her. Erik was back on the sofa, like nothing had changed. There was a moment of silence.

Then he walked to her and opened his belt, slowly, making sure she was watching him do it.


End file.
